


Love Triangle

by SunriseRose1023



Series: Broken Promises [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, M/M, Past Infidelity, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Separation, Trial Separation, Visitation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 18:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18675382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: Tony's moved out, Bucky has the job of getting your daughters from house to house, and you're just trying to put one foot in front of the other. Tony's still trying to piece everything together, and a chance encounter brings your fragile composure crashing down.





	Love Triangle

 

You stood at the kitchen window, a cup of coffee in your hand. The girls hadn’t woken up yet, so you were soaking in the chance to be by yourself in the quiet. You felt guilty about it, especially since you’d be all alone this weekend, but you were used to the mom guilt by now. You sighed, shaking your head slightly, blowing on your cup before you took a sip.

Not for the first time, you wondered if you were doing the right thing. It had been two months since Tony broke your heart, telling you things that made your stomach turn even now when you thought about it. But it didn’t add up.

Tony still couldn’t remember a thing about that night. Steve had told you that he’d gone to a therapist and even a hypnotist, but the answer was the same. The night was a complete blank.

You and Tony had gone to court but you hadn’t filed any papers yet. To keep your business out of the press, the judge had suggested a trial separation, which you and Tony had both agreed to. Steve was keeping out of it as best he could, claiming his job as the district attorney not allowing him to get involved in your marital affairs. Or else he was using it as an excuse and you were too preoccupied to call him out on it.

You were too preoccupied for most things these days. You didn’t have a job that could keep your mind busy. You had foundations where you were on the board, but you weren’t involved in the day-to-day aspects. You thought about volunteering somewhere, but the press always managed to get wind of it and made you feel trivial. You helped at the girls’ school as much as you could, but even that wasn’t something you felt like looking into.

You didn’t feel like doing anything.

You sighed, walking to the sink and pouring out your now-cold coffee. You washed the coffee down the drain, then rinsed out your mug before setting it in the dishwasher. You turned to go and wake the girls up, jumping and laying a hand to your chest when you realized you weren’t alone.

“Allison, how many times have I told you, don’t sneak up on Mommy like that.”

Allie shrugged a shoulder and you walked to her, bending to kiss the top of her head.

“Did you sleep good?”

She shook her head and you sighed.

“Yeah, join the club. What do you want for breakfast? We’ve got Pop Tarts, cereal, or …”

You opened the refrigerator and made a face.

“Scratch that. We’ve got Pop Tarts.”

You walked to the cabinet and pulled out the box, making a face when you opened the packet and the bright purple and neon blue frosting almost hurt your eyes. You shook your head and walked to the bar where Allie was sitting, tearing off a paper towel and setting the pastry on it. She started to eat as you leaned over the bar, propping your head on your hand.

“I’ll go to the store this weekend while you’re with your dad. Any requests?”  
“Little pancakes.”

You smiled.

“Good choice. Regular or blueberry?”  
“Chocolate chip.”  
“Don’t push your luck.”

Allie giggled and you straightened, yawning and groaning when your back popped.

“Do you have your stuff packed for this weekend?”

Allie nodded.

“You might want to check Phoebe’s bag. I think she said she was bringing twenty stuffed animals.”

You put your head in your hand.

“Now I’m going to have to negotiate stuffed animals. She’s got too much of your dad in her.”

Allie giggled and you started for the stairs.

“Eat all of it, then come brush your teeth. I’m going to go wake the bear.”  
“Good luck.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you walked up the stairs.

* * *

 

Tony walked around the penthouse, a glass of scotch in his hand that he sipped periodically. The tile floor was cold beneath his bare feet, save for the places where sunlight was poring through the tall windows. He stopped in the kitchen, taking in the stainless steel appliances and sparkling granite countertops before moving to the living area, with the plush couches and overstuffed pillows and entirely too large television.

God, he  _hated_  this place.

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony sighed.

“Jarvis, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Tony?”  
“My apologies, sir.”

Tony nodded, taking another sip of his scotch. Once he swallowed, he went ahead and drained it, glorying in the burn down his throat.

“Can I get you something to eat, sir?”  
“What, you don’t want me to drink on an empty stomach?”  
“I’d rather we not have a replay of the other night, if that’s possible.”

Tony winced.

“Yeah, I … sorry about that.”  
“No need to apologize, sir.”

Tony sighed, walking past Jarvis into the kitchen. He poured another two fingers of scotch, then turned to lean against the counter, watching Jarvis step into the room and clasp his hands together. Tony rolled his eyes, sipping from his glass.

“You know, you can relax. It’s … unsettling, how proper you are all the damn time.”  
“You would prefer me to be more slovenly?”

Tony shook his head as he drained the rest of his glass, then motioned with it towards his butler.

“See, that right there. Who uses words like ‘slovenly?’”

He set the glass back on the counter and picked up the bottle again.

“If you would perhaps slow down on the cocktails, I could give you an update.”

Tony went still, the bottle in his hand. He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Jarvis’ eyes.

“Did you find something?”  
“It does appear that way.”

Tony swallowed, setting the bottle back on the counter and screwing the top back onto it. He rubbed his thumb over the label, then turned to face Jarvis.

“Give it to me.”

Jarvis gave a nod.

“I’ve been through the travel itineraries of all your employees. It seems that one of your newest employees happened to take a trip to the same hotel where your conference occurred.”  
“Who is she?”  
“I’m still running checks on that.”  
“Give me a name, Jarvis.”  
“I’m afraid I cannot do that, sir.”

Tony turned to grab the glass he’d been using, tossing it into the sink, where it shattered. He turned back to Jarvis, eyes blazing.

“What the fuck do you mean you ‘can’t’ tell me her name?”  
“It seems she has more than a few aliases, sir.”

Tony blinked.

“Aliases?”  
“I am diligently working to get to the bottom of this, sir. As soon as I know something, you will, too.”

Tony slowly nodded.

“And you’re not … lighting up any firewalls, right? The FBI isn’t going to break down the doors and take us out?”

Jarvis smiled.

“I do wish you’d give me a bit more credit than that, sir.”

Tony gave a soft chuckle.

“Thank you. Good work.”

Tony grabbed the bottle of scotch again, setting it aside when he realized he no longer had a glass. He walked to the cabinet where the glasses were, reaching up for the handle, stopping when he heard a throat clear behind him.

“Something else, Jarvis?”  
“It is four-thirty, sir.”

Tony glanced back at him.

“That supposed to mean something to me?”  
“It’s four-thirty on a Friday afternoon.”

After a moment, Tony’s eyes widened.

“Oh, shit.”

He let his hand fall, stepping away from the cabinet.

“I’ve got to shower before they get here.”  
“Go. I’ll clean up in here and meet Mr. Barnes, if necessary.”  
“It won’t be. I’ll be ready by then. Thanks, Jarvis!”

Tony jogged out of the room and up the stairs, and Jarvis sighed, shaking his head before going to clean the glass out of the sink.

* * *

 

“Everybody ready?”  
“Yes!”

Bucky smiled as he cranked up the truck. He glanced in the rearview mirror, watching Phoebe’s feet bounce as she wiggled in her carseat. Allie was across the seat, staring out the window. Bucky sighed, putting the truck in reverse, rolling up the back window after Phoebe had sang her chorus of goodbyes and waved until she couldn’t see you or Steve anymore. He put the truck in drive and turned onto the highway.

“Uncle Bucky, can we listen to—”  
“Uncle Steve’s Disney CD has been waiting for you, kiddo.”

Phoebe cheered as Bucky turned the music on, and he watched Allie roll her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Bucky stared at the road for a moment, then spoke.

“Hey, Al.”

She flicked her eyes towards the mirror and Bucky spoke as he changed lanes.

“Help little bit put her headphones on.”

Allie rolled her eyes again, but did as he asked, fitting the headphones over Phoebe’s ears, making sure the headband wasn’t too tight. When Phoebe was singing loudly, Allie put a finger to her lips, and Phoebe began whisper-singing as she looked out the window. Allie sighed, going to look back out her window, and that’s when Bucky spoke.

“Want to talk about it?”

Allie looked into the rearview mirror.

“About what?”  
“Whatever’s eating at you.”  
“Nothing’s eating at me.”  
“Kid, you’re eight years old and you’re acting like a teenager. Something’s wrong.”

She shook her head.

“Nothing’s wrong. Just leave me alone!”

She crossed her arms over her chest and Bucky nodded, flipping on his turn signal. After a moment, he pulled the truck to the side of the road and put it in park.

“What are you doing?”

He left it running, climbing out and opening the back door. Just as he suspected, Phoebe was asleep, and would be none the wiser. He unbuckled Allie’s seatbelt and picked her up, his heart thudding in his chest when she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her to the tailgate, which he lowered before sitting her on it. He leaned on the tailgate and glanced over at her.

“Been a while since we’ve had one of these man-to-man talks.”

Allie smiled as she looked down at her hands.

“I’m not a man, Uncle Bucky.”  
“I know. Because if you were, we’d already be punching each other.”

Allie looked to him with wide eyes, and Bucky laughed.

“That’s how boys settle their issues.”  
“Is that what you and Uncle Steve do?”

Bucky tilted his head.

“No. Because Uncle Steve has a job that he has to keep his face pretty for.”

Allie giggled and Bucky smiled.

“Uncle Steve makes me talk about my feelings, which is just gross.”

Allie laughed again, and Bucky sighed.

“But it helps, which is why I’m going to pull an Uncle Steve and do it to you.”

Allie sighed.

“Why do we have to do this?”  
“What?”  
“Why do you have to get us from Mommy and drive us to see Daddy?”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek. How was he supposed to explain the logistics of custody agreements to an eight-year-old? That because of her parents and their highly publicized relationship, the court had ordered a third party to be involved with the aspects of visitation? That Steve had readily volunteered himself, but the judge had seen it as a “conflict of interest” to have the district attorney involved? Bucky had volunteered then, before Steve could do it for him and have that thrown out as well.

It absolutely killed him to have to take these precious girls from one parent and deliver them to the other. Every Friday, he had to watch Y/N blink back tears as the girls loaded into his truck, and every Sunday, he had to watch the light leak from Tony’s eyes as he drove away with the girls sad and sullen in his backseat.

Bucky cleared his throat, dipping his head closer to Allie’s.

“You know why, punk.”

Allie shook her head.

“I don’t understand. Why can’t Daddy just come home?”

Bucky looked at the back windshield of his truck, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“It’s not that simple, kid.”  
“Why not?”

He turned his head, heart thudding his in chest when he saw the pain in Allie’s eyes.

“It’s grown-up stuff, babe. You don’t—”  
“I wish everybody would stop telling me that. It’s not grown-up stuff. Me and Phoebe are involved with this shit, too.”  
“Whoa.”

Bucky’s eyes widened.

“First of all, don’t say ‘shit.’”  
“You just did.”  
“Yeah, because I’m a grown man. Grown men can say … bad words because they’re nasty.”

Allie’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s nasty? The words or the men?”

Bucky sighed.

“Both. And second of all, this is a conversation you need to have with your mom.”  
“She won’t talk about it.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and Allie shrugged her shoulders.

“She just changes the subject or she gets this really sad look on her face. And don’t say I should talk to Daddy, because he just turns the TV up or starts playing with Phoebe.”

Bucky pushed a hand through his hair.

“Honestly, kid, this is …”

_“Above my paygrade”_  is what he wanted to say. Instead, he decided to take the literal route and answer Allie’s question, but only partially.

“You know how your dad makes a lot of money?”

Allie nodded, and Bucky went on.

“And sometimes he’s on TV and in magazines and stuff?”

Allie nodded again.

“Well, when your mom and dad started having their problems, they knew there was a chance that the press could get involved. Do you know what the press is?”  
“Like magazines?”  
“Yeah, TV, newspapers, magazines, all that sh—junk.”

Allie’s eyebrows drew together.

“But their sh—”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and Allie coughed before she continued.

“Mom and Daddy’s stuff is between them. Not the press.”  
“Right, but the press doesn’t see it that way. Because your dad is … well, kind of famous, they think his life makes for good stories to tell. And if they can take some pictures and put them in their magazines, they can sell a bunch of them and make some money.”

Bucky could see Allie’s mind churning, and he reached over, taking one of her hands.

“The most important thing here is to make sure that you and Phoebe are kept safe and out of the public eye.”  
“You think people would try to take pictures of us with Daddy? To put in a magazine and make money?”  
“Yes.”  
“Is that like those people with the big cameras who try to get pictures of us going to school and stuff?”

Bucky nodded and Allie looked up to him.

“What are they called?”  
“Paparazzi.”

Allie nodded and Bucky gave her hand a squeeze.

“All your mom and dad want is for you and Phoebe to be safe. That means for you to see your dad, your mom couldn’t take you to him. If she did, someone might see and start trying to take pictures and that could end up really dangerous.”

Allie looked down at the bed of the truck and Bucky gave her hand another squeeze.

“So that is where I come in.”

Allie lifted her head and Bucky smiled at her.

“They needed someone the press didn’t recognize to be the one to take you and Phoebe from one house to the next.”  
“And that’s you?”  
“Right. So now every Friday, I come in and takes the precious cargo—which is you and Phoebe—from point A—your mom—to point B—your dad. And then on Sunday, I—”  
“Get us from point B back to point A.”  
“Exactly.”

Bucky let go of her hand and moved to stand in front of her, putting his hands on either side of her legs on the tailgate.

“I promise you, kid, I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. Not if I can help it. If that means schlepping you and little bit from here to Kingdom Come, I will.”

Allie was quiet for a minute, hand coming up to mess with the buttons on the collar of Bucky’s Henley.

“So you’re … what did you call it?”

Bucky smiled.

“Schlepping?”  
“Yeah. You’re schlepping us around because you have to? Because the judge made you?”  
“No, Allison.”

Allie lifted her head and Bucky moved a hand to cup her cheek as he spoke.

“I volunteered. I wasn’t about to let just anybody do this. I’m not here because anybody made me. I’m here because, just like your mom and dad, I want what’s best for you and your sister. In this case, it’s keeping you safe while being your chauffeur.”

Allie smiled.

“Thanks, Uncle Bucky.”

He leaned in and kissed the top of her head.

“Anytime, shortstack. Now, come on. Your dad’s going to be calling any second now, I’m sure, yammering on about where his girls are and what’s taking me so long.”  
“Do you think he’ll say a nasty word?”  
“He might. Hey, do you still do that thing where he gives you a dollar for every bad word he says?”

Allie grinned and nodded as Bucky slid her off of the tailgate and into his arms. He shut the tailgate and opened the door, letting her climb into the backseat.

“I’ll be sure and put him on speaker phone while I rile him up, see if I can’t make you and your sister a little mad money.”

Allie giggled and buckled her seatbelt. Bucky leaned in and kissed her forehead, giving her hand a squeeze.

“I know it’s hard, but try not to worry like a grown up. Be a kid for a little while longer.”

Allie nodded, and Bucky kissed her forehead once more before shutting the door and climbing into the driver’s side. He buckled his own seatbelt and put the truck into gear, rolling his eyes when a call started coming through the radio. He glanced back at Allie.

“What did I tell you? He’s already calling.”

Allie dissolved into giggles as Bucky pressed a button on the steering wheel.

“What do you want?”  
_“It is almost six o’clock, Barnes. Where the hell are you? Do you have the girls?”_

Bucky looked into the rearview mirror, meeting Allie’s eyes, both of them grinning and holding up one finger.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Tony. We’re on the way.”  
_“On the—damn it, Barnes.”_

Allie held up two fingers and Bucky smiled as he changed lanes.

* * *

 

Early Saturday morning, when your internal clock woke you before any alarm could, you rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. The bed was cold, despite the covers you had over your body. You’d gotten used to sleeping with someone—first Tony, then the girls when he was gone. With all of them gone, you felt like rolling onto your stomach and crying into your pillow.

You sat up instead, pushing the hair you hadn’t washed in two days out of your eyes. You crawled out of bed and walked down the hallway, turning the television on to break up the quiet. You made your way into the kitchen, staring at the coffeepot before walking to the cabinet and finding a bottle of wine. You thought seriously about pouring yourself a glass, then sighed as you put the wine back up.

You walked to the fridge and opened it, groaning when you saw how empty it was. You shut the door and walked to the counter, resting your elbows on it and putting your head in your hands. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you were just tired of fighting them. You let the tears drip onto the counter until you heard your phone ring. You sniffled and swiped a hand over your face, finding your phone and answering it.

“Hello?”  
_“Hey, its me. Are you okay?”_

You sniffled, shaking your head.

_“Oh, honey. What is it?”_

You let out a sob and the phone went muffled before the familiar voice came back to your ear.

_“We’re coming.”  
_“You don’t—”  
_“I know. We’re still coming. Hang tight.”_

You nodded, tossing the phone aside when you hung up. You walked over to the couch and sat down, started chewing on your thumbnail, and that was how your sister found you fifteen minutes later when she arrived. She hadn’t bothered knocking, something you appreciated, just letting herself and her girlfriend in through the backdoor.

“Are we wallowing?”

You smiled.

“Maybe.”  
“Oh, I love a good wallow.”

Wanda stepped around Natasha and made her way to you, crawling onto the couch behind you and wrapping you in her arms. You leaned against her, staring up at your sister.

“You got your hair cut.”

Nat brushed back a piece of her bangs that had fallen into her eyes. She shrugged her shoulders, running a hand up the back of her head, where her hair was almost shaved.

“It was too long.”  
“Personally, I’m a fan.”

Wanda’s low voice rumbled against your back and you sighed. You felt her long fingers drag through your dirty hair and you shook your head.

“I’m a mess.”

Nat sighed, walking over and sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

“You’ve got a right to be.”  
“I’ve got two little girls who don’t need to see me like this.”  
“I have a strong feeling they’re  _not_  here to see you like this.”

You shook your head.

“Tony gets the weekends.”

Nat nodded as Wanda continued untangling your hair. The tears came back to your eyes and you shook your head as Nat tilted her head at you.

“I miss him.”  
“Oh, honey.”  
“I miss him so much.”

Wanda wrapped her arms around you from behind and you shook your head again.

“It’s like … even though I know what he did, I want him here.”  
“Do you just need to get laid?”  
“ _Natasha_!”

You and Wanda spoke in the same voice, and Nat raised her hands.

“I’m just saying.”

You closed your eyes and shook your head and Nat spoke softly.

“You and I are fairly close.”

At the one-eyed stare you gave her, Nat smiled.

“Okay, we’re  _really_  close. Maybe too close, but I digress. You’ve had a pretty regular sex life for the last decade. All of a sudden, that stops and you miss it. It’s perfectly natural.”

You blinked open your eyes, then glanced over your shoulder, where Wanda shrugged behind you.

“Maybe she has a point?”

You groaned, shaking your head. Wanda spoke softly, voice gentle and not condescending in any way.

“Maybe this isn’t about sex, but it’s more about … Are you  _sure_  you know what he did?”

Nat shook her head.

“Wan, we know—”  
“No, we don’t know for sure.”

You groaned, pushing yourself to your feet.

“Don’t.”  
“Don’t what, honey?”  
“Don’t take his side.”  
“I’m not!”

Wanda shook her head, eyes wide as she moved to sit on the edge of the couch.

“You told us that you’re not one hundred percent sure what happened that night because Tony can’t remember. Who’s to say that what we all think happened … didn’t actually happen at all?”

You and Natasha stared at her, until Nat shook her head.

“Why even tell her then?”  
“Because they don’t have secrets? I mean, not big ones. Birthday presents, sure. Not—”  
“Possible cheating scenarios?”

You rubbed a hand against your forehead and closed your eyes, your voice soft.

“What do I do?”

Nat walked up behind you, wrapping you in her arms and putting her chin on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to do anything but take care of yourself. If that means getting your ex over here for a booty call …”  
“First off … he’s not her ex. Not yet.”

You smiled, blinking your eyes open as Wanda moved to stand in front of you. She took one of your hands and smiled at you.

“You don’t have to call him. You don’t have to see him. You can keep on like you’ve been and no one will be the wiser. We’ll never tell.”

You nodded, and she gave your hand a squeeze.

“But I don’t think it would hurt either one of you to just sit and talk it out. Just the two of you, you know? No lawyers, no judgment, no hard feelings. Just … listen.”

You nodded, glancing down before meeting her eyes again.

“I’ll think about it.”

Wanda smiled, patting your hand.

“That’s all we can ask for.”

Nat kissed your cheek, releasing you from her hold.

“That’s not  _all_  we can ask for. You know I love you to the moon and back and all, but honey … you  _really_  need to take a shower.”

You glanced to Wanda, who closed her eyes as she nodded, and you let out a laugh.

“I do need to go to the grocery store. Our cupboard is bare.”  
“All this money and you go to the grocery store yourself?”

You nodded to Wanda.

“I want some semblance of a normal life. If that means wrangling my kids in Costco, hey.”

You shrugged and Nat nodded to you.

“Try the online thing with the pickup. It’s amazing. No fighting the crowds, no buying unnecessary crap you don’t need.”  
“But the unnecessary crap is the best part. Like, how do I know whether I need a bread box or not if I don’t go and look at them?”

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“You’re the weirdest.”  
“But you love me anyway.”

Nat smiled and you sighed.

“Thank you, both of you, for coming to talk me down.”  
“Anytime, babe.”

You nodded, turning and walking up the stairs. Nat and Wanda waited until they heard the shower before they linked hands and walked out the back door.

* * *

 

Tony yawned and shook his head, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a sip of it black. He made a face and went for the refrigerator, yawning again as he pulled the creamer out and poured some into his cup. He shut the fridge and jumped when he saw Allie standing there in her nightgown, hair a crazy tangle.

“Don’t you make noise when you move? Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Allie smiled, taking the hand Tony offered and walking with him into the kitchen. He picked her up and set her on the counter, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Want some pancakes?”  
“Is Jarvis coming in?”

Tony shook his head.

“No, but I can do it.”

Allie’s eyes widened and she made a face. Tony bit the inside of his cheek, moving to stand in front of her.

“Are you trying to say I’m not a good cook?”  
“Pancakes aren’t supposed to be black, Daddy. Yours always are.”

Tony narrowed his eyes, moving his hands to either side of Allie’s ribcage and tickling her, smiling when she squealed and giggled, begging him to stop. He walked back to his coffee, taking a sip and looking out the window.

“We could go out for breakfast.”  
“Or we could eat cereal. You’re good at that.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Oh, sure. Pouring sugar and milk into bowls, I’m a pro.”

Allie pushed her hair out of her face and looked up at him.

“Can we talk?”

Tony turned to look at her.

“Anytime, about anything. You know that.”

Allie nodded, looking down at her hands. Tony set his mug down, walking to stand in front of her.

“Hey. Hey, look here.”

She lifted her head and Tony gave her a nod.

“What’s the matter?”

Allie sighed.

“Why do we have to do this?”  
“Do what?”  
“Come and see you, then leave you here when we go back home.”

Tony sighed.

“Kid—”  
“Uncle Bucky told me how the judge made him schlep us around.”  
“He did what now?”  
“I just want to know why we have to … why did you go see a judge in the first place? Why did you stop living with us at home?”

Tony swallowed, staring into his daughter’s eyes, the beautiful ones she’d gotten from her mother. He shook his head.

“It’s … grown up stuff that you don’t need to worry about. Come on, let’s see if your sister’s up yet.”  
“Dad, please!”

Tony stopped and Allie slid to the edge of the counter. She shook her head.

“It’s not fair. I don’t understand why we have to go from one place to the other and no one will tell me why. Are you mad at Mom?”

Tony sighed.

“No.”  
“Is she mad at you?”

Tony closed his eyes, running a hand down his face.

“Yes.”  
“Why?”

Tony swallowed, meeting the eyes of his beautiful daughter.

“Because I made a mistake.”

Allie shrugged her shoulders.

“Just say you’re sorry.”

Tony let out a quiet laugh.

“It’s uh … it’s not that simple, kid.”  
“Why not?”

Tony looked over Allie’s face as he struggled to find the words. How could he put the biggest mistake of his life into terms that were appropriate for an eight-year-old to try and comprehend? Tony sighed, leaning over the counter beside his daughter.

“Sometimes when you’re a grown up, you … do something so big and so bad that people have a hard time forgiving you for it.”  
“Mom’s a very forgiving person. She forgave Phoebe when she broke that angel by the TV.”

Tony smiled at that, looking down at his left hand, at the pale, thin circle where his ring once lived. He hadn’t been able to find it, and it made him ill whenever he thought about that. 

“This is bigger than that angel, Al.”  
“Tell her you’re sorry anyway. She’ll forgive you.”

Tony’s throat closed over the words he wanted to say, the  _“I wish I could believe that”_  that died on his tongue.

“Daddy?”

Tony glanced over his shoulder, a smile coming over his lips at the sight of Phoebe’s messy hair and the frown on her face. Tony leaned over and kissed Allie’s forehead, lifting her off the counter and setting her on the floor. He walked over and lifted Phoebe into his arms, one hand going to rub her back as she settled her head on his shoulder. He cleared his throat, then walked to the pantry.

“How about some pancakes?”  
“Is Jarvis coming over?”

Tony rolled his eyes at Phoebe’s sleepy voice.

“No, not today.”  
“Then no pancakes.”

* * *

 

You pushed your cart down an aisle, taking your time sauntering through the store, picking up what Nat would classify as “useless crap” just to spite her. You’d almost grabbed a six-pack of Tony’s favorite beer, but you stopped yourself, feeling an ache in your chest. You felt eyes on you with every aisle you walked down, but you were used to it by now. After ten years of being Mrs. Tony Stark, you had grown a thick skin when it came to media scrutiny.

You walked down the spice aisle, studying different labels and brainstorming how you could use them. You tucked a few ideas away for when the girls got older, because Phoebe absolutely refused to eat anything even remotely spicy, turning her nose up at even plain black pepper. You smiled and tossed a jar of cinnamon sticks into the cart, then started forward.

“Excuse me, are you Y/N Stark?”

You didn’t roll your eyes, but you did plaster on what you knew was a fake smile. You turned to face the woman standing before you and nodded.

“That’s me.”  
“Oh, wow.”

Your smile softened, and you held out a hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

The woman shook your hand, shaking her head.

“I can’t believe I just ran into you at the grocery store.”

You glanced down at your cart and lifted your shoulders.

“We’ve all got to eat, you know?”

You gave a soft laugh, and the woman sighed, giving a shake of her head.

“I just … I can’t believe  _this_  is how we meet. It must be fate, right?”

The hair on the back of your neck stood up and you shook your head.

“I’m sorry?”

The woman lifted a hand, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Tony said he was going to introduce us, but I know things happen.”

You felt so cold all of a sudden, blinking your eyes.

“Who are you?”

The woman lifted her head, dark eyes meeting yours.

“I think you know.”

You couldn’t hear anything except the blood rushing in your ears. It seemed like a roar, blocking out the sounds of the store, the call on the overhead system, even the words the woman in front of you was still saying. You blinked, feeling like you were having an out-of-body experience, as you studied her, until a word she spoke broke through the haze and rattled in your soul.

_‘Children.’_

You blinked again, giving your head a shake.

“What did you just say?”  
“I said that I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet sooner, but I’m too excited about meeting the children. Tony wouldn’t stop talking about those girls, and I just—”

You cut her off, lifting a finger.

“Stop talking.”

She did, and you imagined the reason being because you’d never heard your own voice so cold. You lowered your hand, staring at her, not saying a word, only blinking. When you thought you had yourself under control, you spoke calmly, yet sharply.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you will  _never_  have  _anything_ to do with my children. I don’t care if Tony promised you the moon and everything it touches, you will never set foot in my house or be anywhere my children will be.”  
“I don’t mean to hurt you, but—”  
“I told you to stop talking.”

She closed her mouth and you swallowed, stepping closer to her.

“Don’t you think for one second that I’m just going to step aside and let you have  _anything_  to do with them. I will die first, do you understand? You stay away from my family.”

She stammered as she stepped backwards, but you didn’t listen to anything she was trying to say. You grabbed your purse from the cart, leaving it in the middle of the aisle, turning and walking out of the store. You got to your car and climbed inside, staring at the steering wheel, until you opened your purse and pulled out your phone.

_“Hello?”  
_“Are you busy?”  
_“Not at the moment. Wanda’s talking about cooking something, but I’m just not feeling it.”  
_“Could you and Wanda come pick me up?”  
_“Why? Where are you?”  
_“Costco. I don’t think I can drive right now.”  
_“Why not?”_  
_“_ Because my hands won’t stop shaking and I can barely see through this haze of rage.”

Nat was quiet for a second, until her no-nonsense tone came back through the speaker.

_“Where are you right this second?”  
_“In the car.”  
_“Stay there. Don’t try to drive. We’re on our way.”_

You nodded, even though something inside you told you Nat couldn’t see you.

_“Do you want me to keep talking to you until we get there?”  
_“Yes.”

You shook your head, feeling the adrenaline taper off, tears coming to your eyes as an ache started in your head.

“Nat.”  
_“What, honey? What happened?”  
_“Just get here, please.”  
_“We’re coming, honey. Hang on.”_

* * *

 

“Allison, where is your bag? Bucky’s going to be here any minute!”

Tony crouched down, a smile on his lips when he saw Phoebe’s backpack securely on her shoulders.

“Got your blanket?”  
“Yep.”  
“Mr. Bubbles the bunny rabbit?”  
“Yep.”  
“The purple people eater?”  
“In the bag!”

Tony opened his arms and Phoebe went to him, hugging him tightly. Tony closed his eyes and swallowed around the lump in his throat, leaning back and cupping Phoebe’s face in his hands.

“You be good for your mom.”

Phoebe nodded.

“I love you, Daddy.”

Tony clenched his back teeth together, pulling her in for another hug. He kissed her temple as he saw the headlights of Bucky’s truck pull into the driveway. He stood up and walked to the stairs.

“Allie, come on. Bucky’s here!”  
“I’m coming! I’m coming.”

Tony blinked at the sass in Allie’s tone. He shook his head, trying to mentally prepare himself to deal with her as a teenager. She appeared at the top of the stairs, eyes cast down. Tony sighed, then motioned for the door.

“Come on. Buck’s waiting.”  
“I want to stay here with you.”

Tony blew out a breath, motioning for Allie to walk down the stairs. She did, stopping just above Tony. He reached out and took her hands, giving her a smile.

“I know, kid, but you’ve got to go back to your mom.”  
“Why?”  
“Because that’s the deal we made. You stay with your mom during the week while you go to school and the weekends, I’m all yours.”  
“That’s a stupid deal.”

Tony sighed.

“I’ve got to work during the week, sometimes really late, so we wouldn’t get to see each other much anyway.”  
“I used to see you when you lived with us at home.”

Tony closed his eyes, blowing out a breath when there was a knock at the door.

“That’ll be Uncle Bucky. Come on, kiddos. Load up.”

Phoebe was waiting by the door, bouncing on her toes. Allie dragged her feet to the door and Tony knelt in front of her.

“Try to perk up, okay?”

Allie nodded as she looked down at her shoes. Tony leaned forward and kissed her forehead, looking from Allie to Phoebe.

“Be good for your mom.”

Phoebe nodded and Allie continued to stare at her shoes. Tony sighed, standing up and laying a hand on both girls’ heads before he opened the door. Bucky was waiting by his truck, arms crossed over his chest, ankles crossed as he leaned against the door. He smiled when he saw the girls, bending to catch Phoebe as she ran to him. He waved to Tony, who swallowed and waved back, watching every piece of his broken heart climb into Bucky’s truck.

He let out a breath and cleared his throat, reaching into his pocket as his phone vibrated, walking insde and lifting the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”  
_“I need you to come over.”_

His heart caught in his throat at the sound of your voice.

“Everything okay?”  
_“Can you just get here?”_  
_“_ Bucky just left with the girls. Give me ten minutes.”  
_“Okay.”_  
“Y/N, what—”

Tony blinked, pulling the phone away from his ear and staring at it, the call disconnected. He swallowed, then jogged upstairs to grab his wallet and keys.


End file.
